


Burning Bright

by fireflies at dusk (WordCollector)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Blood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Spoilers for Book 2: Wayward Son, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21782299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordCollector/pseuds/fireflies%20at%20dusk
Summary: A nice drive in the country is ruined when Baz and Simon are attacked by survivors of Next Blood.Will Simon be able to save Baz from vampires with a thirst for vengeance?
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Simon**

Baz surprises me with one last road trip before our flight home. The truck has a ton of leg room. It would be great, but his hand is just out of reach for a casual touch. I would have to lean over the enormous armrest to hold it. I shift towards the center to get closer. Maybe he will get the hint.

Penny is at the hotel saying goodbye to Sheppard. It’s more like she’s collecting information about everything he knows. She isn’t even hiding the fact. She has a notebook dedicated to the things he tells her about America. I think she hopes to present it to her mother. She said it would “give our trip value.” I just hope it distracts the Coven enough that Baz isn’t outed as a vampire.

The drive has been spectacular, then I see a sign for a roadside overlook. When I point, Baz pulls right in. It’s just a notch on the side of the road with a few lines for parking. I hop out and walk ahead. Baz pauses to mess around in the truck. He said he bought a small suitcase to keep his shirts from wrinkling. I think he packed us a lunch.

I glance back. What he wears now is amazing; slacks and a pale blue paisley shirt that highlights his eyes. The gentle breeze catches his hair, sets it rippling. He looks like he is in a shampoo advert.

I stand at the railing, looking out at a valley of pine trees, trying to soak up America. The view is dazzling, even from the side of the road.

**Baz**

Simon is leaning over the railing gazing at the sky. The evening sun streaks his hair golden like a halo.

Someone approaches fast. I hear him before I see him.

“This is all your fault,” he hisses.

As I spin, the stake misses my heart, hits my shoulder-blade instead. The impact sends me sprawling, face down on the concrete. I try to leap at him, but he has another stake ready, held high. He moves fast. Too fast for anything that isn’t magical. He is on my back, holding me down. It is all I can do to twist away.

**Simon**

I hear a thump, then someone slams me to the ground. It pushes the air from my lungs. As I struggle to understand what is happening, my arm is wrenched behind my back. Wings twisted and tethered by rope and rough hands. Shoved to my stomach I looked over to see something that takes my breath away. Baz face down on the pavement. A man with a stake held high. Time freezes for a second. Then, he drives it down into Baz. The stake pierces Baz with a sickening crunch. He screams and jerks. Then, I see the other stake already in Baz’s shoulder.

**Baz**

I try to turn when the second stake pierces my side. Leaves me flattened. My cheek is in a pool of motor oil, and blood dribbles from my lip. I can feel it burbling in my lungs. Filling them with every breath. He missed my heart twice. I doubt he will miss again. I hear a scream, then see Simon. He is rage and fire, writhing in some fiend’s grip. It takes two to hold him down. Vampires. I can see that now. They look Next Blood. Clean cut and clear eyed. The one at my shoulder, leans close and I can smell the lemongrass ginger tea on his breath.

“You could have had everything,” he growls. “We did have everything. Magic and Vampire, and you ruined it. You ruined it for us and for everyone, you bastard.” He shoves the back of my neck, pushing my nose into the asphalt. I can’t fight him. All the strength has gone out of me. I can’t see Simon, but I can hear him screaming. They are going to kill him too, and this will be all my fault. The vampire is right. I ruined everything.

**Simon**

Baz is down. Two stakes in the back. He lies limp, but his eyes dart around looking for me. Blood drools from his lips and he would hate to be seen like this. Held down in an oily car park. His perfect paisley shirt ruined. I scream in rage again and he spots me.

This is amateur hour. These toff’s have never been in a fight. But they are strong, so strong. They only manage to tie one hand. The rope end drags and tangles.

Two vampires struggle to hold me down. One tried to bite me, but I smashed his perfectly white fangs into a fender with my wing. I jabbed the other in the eye, and we roll on the ground, his jaws snapping for my neck. The vamp on Baz pulls out another stake. He has a whole bag of them at his hip. He hisses something at Baz.

I am helpless.

No magic.

**Baz**

Hot tears run down my cheeks as I strain to see Simon one last time. I can’t dodge or roll anywhere. I am pinned down. I twist and catch his expression. Simon’s eyes are wide, and he screams as the stake is lifted.

**Simon**

The other vampire grabs my hands, binds the rope, yanks me back, and I can’t see. I miss the moment. Is Baz dust? He made no sound.

Nothing.

I am nothing.

**Baz**

I try not to watch. I want to close my eyes and avoid Simon’s pained expression. It holds me transfixed. The vampire on Simon yanks him back, grabbing him from behind in a wrestling hold, he goes for Simon’s neck. Now, I close my eyes. I can’t watch Simon die.

Suddenly my eyes burn. The light is so bright it makes me see red behind my eyelids. I feel the one behind me let go of my neck. He stumbles back, and I look up at him as he bursts into flame. He sways my way, and I think he is going to take me with him. He burns fast, only his ash blows over me.

**Simon**

The Vampire behind me does not bite. I feel flames against my back. It happens sudden and scorching. I’ll have a burn on my wings. Free of his hands, I roll to my side, scrambling to see.

Baz is there. He is whole. I dash towards him. With bound wrists I run my hands over him, unsure how to help. The other vampire is gone too. Left Baz in a pool of blood and shaking like a leaf.

His hands shift and reach towards his back. They just shake like he doesn’t know what to do either. I use my teeth to loosen the knot and slip my wrists free. I need two hands for this.

“Do I pull them out?” I ask stupidly.

He shakes his head yes, scrunching his eyes closed. There is grease on his cheek. It’s thick and black and blood is foaming under his nose. His chin is thick with it, as it dribbles from his lips.

**Baz**

Simon is magic. Simon is magic. Simon is magic.

The vampires are gone, burned away with the sun.

I should be burned too.

He burned so hot he was blinding. I would be blinded by him if I had my eyes open.

I still see spots.

**Simon**

I reach out and yank one stake hard. Like pulling off a bandage. It should be easier than doing it slowly. I was wrong. It catches, jammed into bone. I twist it free. He shakes and gasps. The other is worse, jammed between ribs, something snaps when I pull. Baz shouts and shudders as it jerks out with a sickening squelch.

Baz doesn’t get up. He gasps and shakes. Big clots of blood keep dripping from his lips, and he coughs to breathe. He can’t seem to get his breathing right. I don’t know how to help. I’m covered in his blood.

**Baz**

It feels like he just killed me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Simon**

I roll Baz over, need to see if the stakes pierced through. I pull his shirt at the collar, trying to tug it off. I can make bandages of it. Stupid thing won’t rip. Baz is no help, he is limp. His eyes flutter, he is muttering my name over and over. “Simon,” not Snow.

**Baz**

Simon needs to leave me be. I am so hungry; I have never hurt like this before. The buckshot to the chest was nothing on this searing pain. I am afraid for Simon, he leans so close I can smell his blood, hear his heartbeat. His hands are at my neck, tugging at my shirt. He curses when it won’t come free.

Simon has magic.

“Simon, too close,” I whisper. He hears me and shifts a bit. I gather my strength to push him back. He only moves a few inches. My buttons pop and he leans close again, pulling my shirt open.

He finds the gaping wound in my chest where the bastard ran me through. I think he broke my ribs and destroyed my lung. I feel blood push out with every breath. It’s hard to get air in. The stake in my shoulder-blade caught in the bone. I think the shoulder bone is broken. I can’t move that arm without my eyes watering.

“Simon, you have magic,” I say. It comes out as a whisper and he moves closer to hear me.

“Hush,” he says. “I can get you something. Just wait here.” He runs off. I stare at the sky.

Simon is magic.

**Simon**

Baz is delirious.

He keeps saying, “Simon is magic,” over and over. It’s garbled and took me a few minutes to understand. But, he keeps saying it, like he wants it to be true. It’s not. I don’t have magic. It’s gone.

I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’t me.

I rummage the truck for his phone to call Penny. She can magic Baz healed. Something crunches as I step out to check the other side. I find half the phone under my heel. Crowley knows where the other half is. The vampire must have snapped it when he pushed Baz down. That’s fine, I can catch him something. He will heal up in no time.

I find two squirrels but can’t catch them. A robin gets away too. If I had magic, I would spell something to me. I circle as fast as my legs will take me, then move deeper into the woods. None of the woodland animals are stupid or slow enough to let me catch them. I need Penny to spell them to me. Baz can.

I rush back to him. He has dragged himself closer to our truck, practically beneath the rear tire. His eyes follow me, but other than that he doesn’t move.

“You need to spell something to you.” I carefully tug him from beneath the vehicle.

“I can’t, Simon.” His voice is a soft puff of air. Barely a whisper. “You have magic.” His eyes are searching me, expecting something that isn’t there.

“Please Baz, try to spell an animal closer. Just confuse one, make them slow for me,” I beg, but Baz just closes his eyes.

“You have magic,” he repeats.

I stand. Enraged, I yell out, “Come out, come out wherever you are!” Then hold my arms out. “See Baz, nothing. Please, for Crowley’s sake, cast something!”

When my arms drop, a racoon shimmies down a tree. He stares at me for a second, while I slowly crouch to grab a bloodied stake. I sling it at the racoon, then lunge for the beast. Dazed, the animal bites me in the wrist while I wrestle it closer to Baz.

Baz grabs it. Biting before I let go. I stand and turn away. A row of squirrels’ stares at me from a branch. Bold, I chuck a rock. They scramble and disappear into the trees. I run into the wood looking for more, only to come up empty.

**Baz**

Simon stood up, said he had no magic, then held out his arms and summoned animals from the forest. It was a thing of beauty. I would be impressed if I wasn’t ravenous. I am impressed.

Simon is magic.

**Simon**

I fly up, surprising a gliding goose and snatching him right out of the sky.

Baz is finished with the Racoon and waiting for me when I drop down next to him. He still isn’t sitting up, but his eyes lock onto the goose. I hand it to him and take to the sky before he feeds.

**Baz**

I am still shaking every time he steps too close. I smell his blood, and it smells wonderous. He ripped the skin on his thumbs when he freed himself from the ropes. I can practically taste it every time he touches me.

Thankfully, he hurries away to catch more. Between the goose and the racoon, I can sit up. But I lost a lot of blood, and I need to heal. I am still losing blood. Simon didn’t bandage my wounds. Why would he when I heal so fast? The wounds are closing, slowly. Still, the blood runs out of me almost as fast as it goes in.

Simon lands beside me with a thump. He holds out a flopping gray fish. He can tell from my expression that fish isn’t on the menu and heads straight up into the sky. He drops the fish about twenty meters away. It lands with a splash.

Soon, he returns leading a goat on a rope. I sit up. “Crowley’s sake Snow, that’s someone’s pet. The police are going to arrest you.” He shrugs and heads to the sky again.

Every time I hear a car on the nearby road, I freeze waiting for it to approach. To turn in and park close enough to see me lying here, covered in blood within a ring of dead animals. Luck would have it that we parked in a spot no one cares to see. No one has even slowed.

I tug my shirt closed. Simon did more damage than the vampires. As I shift, the sticky blood makes the shirt cling to my ribs. I peel it away, so it doesn’t dry there.

The goat wanders around me eating a paper cup from the curb. The longer Simon is gone, the more I look at the goat. Twice it has wandered close enough that I could catch the rope. It would be so easy. I am so hungry I am blind to anything else. I lie on my back, stare at the sky and try to take a deep breath. I can’t even do that. Blood bubbles in my lungs, I pant in short choppy puffs feeling light-headed. The goat stands over me, and nibbles at my shoe.

When Simon returns, he is empty handed. I have shoved the goat under the car, so no one will suspect. Waste of effort on my part, since I am still sitting on the ground beside it, blood stained and filthy.

**Simon**

I haven’t caught another animal in an hour. I found a few, but they all got away. I have new claw marks to prove it.

When I land, Baz has eaten the goat. He tried to hide the carcass under the car. He looks a mess, and I need to get him inside, but he is sitting up. I feel ridiculous having left him there. He watches me with half closed eyes as I get closer.

“Don’t get too close, Snow.” He looks hungry, but his breathing sounds better. At least his nose isn’t bubbling blood.

“I can’t catch anything else. They all got away.” I crouch in front of him. He still looks terrible, pale and trembly. “We should drive back.”

He nods and tries to stand. When I go to help him, he shoves me away. “Don’t,” he growls.

I leave him be and start the truck.

I fiddle with the radio to do something with my hands as Baz struggles to get into the car. Inside, he just flops back and closes his eyes. His hands are shaking in his lap.

He slits his eyes and looks over at me. “Are you going to drive or stare at me all day?” he asks testily.

“Your door is still open.” His eyes shift to look, but he doesn’t close it. I hop out and close the door, then drive us back to the hotel. We are an hour’s ride from there. Baz sleeps the whole way. When we get back, I run inside to get Penny. She is going to have to spell Baz healed in the truck. He opened his eyes when I parked but made no move to get out.

There is a note. She and Sheppard have gone to meet a family of centaurs. She left a list of spells for Baz to hide my wings in case she needs to catch a later flight.

She has left us.


	3. Chapter 3

**Baz**

When Simon returns, he opens the back of the truck, then comes to my door with one of my shirts.

“Put this over your shoulders,” he says. “We can get you cleaned up inside.”

I take it from him and try to drape it one handed. My right arm is still useless. I can work the fingers, but they are clumsy and shaky.

I follow Simon up, staying at a distance. He carries my bag and watches over his shoulder. We have a room near the end of a long hall. Luckily, there isn’t a soul around.

We pass a hotel room door. There are three people inside, I can smell them. One is eating an apple. The next room holds a man who hasn’t bathed since his workout. He reeks. It makes my mouth water anyways.

In our room, Simon has started the shower. He sets out my shampoo as if I had the strength to wash my hair. In the bath I stand there breathing as deep as my mucked up lungs will let me. After he is done fiddling with the taps, he gives me a long once over, then walks out.

The room is steamy, and I strip, leaving the clothes in a pile on the floor. They are ruined. The water is warm, and I stand under the spray until I need to lie down. When I dry off, the towel is covered in blood. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m still bleeding, or because I didn’t have the energy to scrub. I’m still wet and barely have the energy to tug on the pants Simon left out for me.

Simon is watching television from the bed when I come out. He has a cat. I feel that I could eat a hundred cats and still not be right.

**Simon**

Baz was in the shower long enough for me to catch a cat, eat the packed lunch and watch an entire episode of Top Gear. In the bottom of his suitcase he had a bundle of sweets and cakes. The chocolate dipped strawberries were amazing. I wonder where he got them.

He looks like death when he emerges. Still very damp, I doubt he dried himself much. In just his pants, his skin is as pale as I’ve ever seen it. He’s draped the towel on his shoulder, in front of his wound. He thinks he’s subtle, but the sneaky bastard is hiding it from me, I can tell. He doesn’t want me to worry.

His hair drips onto the carpet. He didn’t wash it, and the towel is smudged with grease and blood. He must have just stood under the spray for all that time. No soap. We had kids in the care home who showered that way. You can be under the spray for an hour and still come out smelling ripe.

I throw back the covers, letting him get in anyways. I push the cat closer, and he stares at it before slowly pulling it over. I caught it inside a dumpster. It smells like wet cigarettes and ash.

I turn away to give him privacy. He has been favoring the right arm, exclusively using the left. Even now, he is on his left side.

The wound in his front looks closed, mostly. It seeps blood still.

I sit in the chair next to the bed, and watch the screen, kicking my feet onto the mattress. In the next episode, they are driving a classic Corvette. It is a thing of beauty. I look over to see Baz watching me. His eyes are slits, like he is falling asleep, but I don’t think he is.

“Snow, I need you to go,” he says, and I sit up. “Please, I need more.”

I would give him some lip to be funny, but he looks so terrible, I feel bad. Instead, I jump up. “Back in a few.”

**Baz**

I need to send him away. I need more. I need something he can’t give.

There is someone sleeping right above me. She is wearing the same lotion my stepmother uses. Beside us on either side is a couple. One side awake and arguing. The other dead to the world. They showered before bed and smell of hotel soap.

I ache from their closeness.

I have never been so hungry.

**Simon**

The goat should have been enough. Racoon, goose, goat, cat.

How many animals is this going to take?

**Baz**

Simon is back in under twenty minutes. He catches me standing at the wall listening to the couple next door. I step away guiltily.

He sets down a sack of hamburgers and a pair of enormous drinks.

“Snow, what is this? I need more.” I don’t say blood.

**Simon**

I set the bag of burgers on the table. “They’re mostly for me. I got you a grilled chicken sandwich. You should eat food, too.”

He frowns and still looks the worst I’ve ever seen him. I caught a glimpse of his back when I came through the door. It’s crusty and red. I hope he heals from the inside, because the outside looks pretty raw.

I look him dead in the eyes. “How do you feel.”

“I’ll survive, Snow.”

He turned away before he answered, and this tells me more than his words. He sits perched on the bed while I scarf through a burger. Slowly he unwraps his sandwich and takes a small bite. His fangs are showing, and he puts a hand up to cover his chewing. He should eat more but puts it down before he’s eaten half.

I finish two burgers and the last of the giant drink, shaking the ice to be sure. I dump the ice into the sink, then reach into the bag. The gas station next door sold all sorts of pocketknives. I got one with a brass eagle on the wood handle. I flop onto the bed next to him, kicking off my shoes, then flip open the knife.

**Baz**

Simon has a knife and slices open his wrist. I grab the wound to stop the bleeding, but my fangs pop immediately and I throw myself to the floor to get away.

“What are you doing?” I shout, possibly scream as I back away. It has taken all my willpower not to eat those idiots next door and he does this.

“How much is it going to take?” Simon asks. The blood drips into the cup, and I stare transfixed.

I swallow and find my voice. “Please, I’m begging you. Simon, stop this insanity.”

He shakes the cup at me. “It can’t go back in, you know. It’s just going to waste.”

“No.”

“Why not?” he stares me down.

“I would never feel safe. I would always be afraid to hurt you, that once I got a taste, it might not be enough.”

Simon looks away. “Fair enough.” He stands taking some gauze from the bag and wrapping it around his wrist.

“How about a stranger’s blood though?”

“What?” I sit down on the bed. “No people, Simon.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We wait for Penny,” I say. I want to say, “You have magic,” but he hasn’t mentioned it since the forest.

Simon shuffles beside me and tugs me close, next to him on the bed. I can’t get my fangs to retract with his bandaged wrist so close.

He takes my hand and places his other on the wound on my chest. “Heal yourself,” he says from close enough to share breath. I’m not strong enough to cast anything right now. Simon looks so hopeful. I can try. I lick my lips and whisper a healing spell.

The warmth flows through me.

The fire.

**Simon**

The wound on his chest shrinks leaving only perfect smooth skin.

His eyes widen as he feels it.

Baz smiles and it is dazzling.

**Baz**

Simon grins and shines as bright as the sun.

I am healed.

**Author's Note:**

> Simon would get his magic back to save Baz, you know it.  
> 


End file.
